Broken
by tokeahontas
Summary: Beatrice has been a nobody her whole life - living in the shadows of her high school. When she gets invited to the party of the year, her life changes - and what happens might change the school forever, too.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, I had a friend over yesterday and we decided to write a Divergent high school AU just for shits and giggles, kind of as a take-that to all the terrible high school AUs out there. We decided ours would feature nerdy Tris and popular Four, as well as a friendship between Academic Decathlon champion Caleb and party animal Peter. Anyways, this is our creation. **

**WARNING: T for vague descriptions of sexual assault and teen drug use. **

* * *

An undercurrent of words traveled through the school. "You going to Four's party tonight?"

It was whispered in English classes, in History classes, on the asphalt, on the bus, in the stalls of the bathrooms.

Peter Hayes stretched mockingly in Algebra II, using it as an excuse to talk to Zeke, the boy behind him. "Are you bringing the booze?"

"Yeah," said Zeke, chewing on his pencil eraser. "Are you bringing the Percy?"

"Zeke," Peter chided, green eyes glinting, "I'm sixteen."

"You drink like an elderly Irish man."

Peter glared at him.

Zeke raised his hands back. "Okay, I'll hook us up."

"Good."

* * *

Beatrice counted her steps as she walked in a straight line down the school's hallway, reminding herself not to step on the white tiles.

She looked down, pushing up her glasses that only magnified her large blue eyes. She held her books tightly to her small chest. She was caught up in her memories of the time Eric gave her a sash that read 'WORLD'S SMALLEST BOOBS' when she ran into something solid.

Strong arms grasped her as her books flew everywhere.

"Sorry," a deep voice said. She looked up into deep blue eyes.

"Oh, sorry, Four," she said quietly, trying not to be noticed.

But she couldn't be unnoticed. Laughter roared through the hallway.

He put his left hand on her far shoulder and steered her away from the public.

"If you want," he said gently, as though she was a gun about to go off, "you can come to a function at my house tonight. My dad's gonna be out of town. Everyone's gonna be there. We're gonna have happy dust, and ganja, and pills, and sauce, of course, and music. We're gonna turn up."

Beatrice stared at him with awe, trying to process all the words he just used - all of that slang. "But," she said a bit louder than intended, "isn't a turnip a veggie?"

Four shook his head, patted her shoulder, and walked away.

* * *

Beatrice used her student directory to research Four Eaton. She found his address - his house was near hers. She smiled with hope as she pored over the pictures, gazing at his picture. He was so handsome.

She decided to walk there, since he was only two zip codes away. She wore a black collared shirt and jeans. She knew she was taking a big risk - all she ever wore were uniform pants. She decided to let her hair down and lose her glasses. She inserted contacts with precision, imagining Four's strong hands doing it for her.

The sun was still up when she left, but she figured that since it was Daylight Savings Time, the party would be in full-swing!

When she got to Four's house, she could have sworn that it was the wrong house. There were no cars.

She walked up to the door, mustering all of her courage to knock.

When it swung open, one person greeted her. It was Four.

He smiled with utmost sincerity. "Hey."

* * *

It was nine-thirty, and it was thirty minutes past Beatrice's weekend bedtime. She knew her parents would be upset, but she liked to live on the wild side. It was exhilarating!

She heard yells and moans from other rooms of Four's large house.

She heard a loud thud, and then the footsteps of someone walking up to her. He was tall and pretty like a girl, and his green eyes were full of awe.

"You look… sexy tonight," he said quietly. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. Something lined the skin by his nostril - white powder. That must be happy dust.

"Um, thank you," she said meekly.

"Tris, right?"

"Um… Beatrice, actually," she said, her voice becoming more quiet as she trailed off.

"Yeah… what size tits are you?" he blurted out, hiccuping.

"Uh… small," she whispered.

He patted her back and then stumbled away.

Another hand grabbed her there. It was big and strong, just like she remembered. Four's.

"Sorry about Peter," he said. "He's a bit of a snowbird. Very… uh… happy tonight."

"That was nice of him," she said, not looking in Four's eyes.

"No, it wasn't. Lying isn't nice."

Her heart sank.

"Bye, Four," she said, padding as fast as she could toward the door.

"Wait!" he called. "Was it something I said?"

She didn't pause.

* * *

The minute Beatrice had left the house in jeans, Caleb knew something was up. Beatrice's footsteps faded slowly as she walked down the street, the pattern resembling that of someone skipping excitedly.

So he did the only thing that a good brother would have the sense to do - he followed her.

He watched and hid silently as she made her way to the party. Once other guests flooded in, Caleb found his place among them and sneaked in.

He watched from afar as she interacted with people, sometimes leading the conversation, other times being the one who had been approached. He had never seen her so alive.

He stopped watching for a minute when he realized he had to pee, and walked to the bathroom. When he stepped out, someone quite literally fell into his arms.

He wasn't prepared, and found himself losing his balance. The weight of the person, another boy his age, didn't help.

He caught himself on the door frame and moved the kid up with his knee, taking his hand and helping them both stand.

Which turned out to be a challenge for the other boy, who had dark, shiny hair, a bottle of alcohol, and an inexplicable purple bandana tied around his head.

Peter fell into Caleb's arms again.

He clasped hands with the very drunk, very disoriented person in front of him and dreaded when he would finally have to let go.

* * *

Beatrice was storming out of the Eaton residence, her breathing heavy, when she felt Four's strong hand come down on her shoulder for the third time.

She turned around. "What?" she snapped. She had never yelled at a boy before, never expressed her independence in this way. She had never felt so alive.

"Beatrice… Tris… come inside. Please. Have fun with me. It's not even ten yet. It's… the night is young."

"Why did you even invite me here in the first place?"

"I wanted to have fun with you."

"Me? Beatrice Prior? Of all people."

"I've already had fun with everybody else."

She considered him. He had a way of making things seem better than they were.

He extended his hand and reluctantly she took it.

* * *

"Hey, where's Peter?" Zeke asked as he sloshed his drink around, leaning on the staircase of Four's house.

Eric shrugged, making his long, greasy hair bounce a little.

Peter was their sophomore friend, and usually at parties, even though always a bit coked up, he was down for things like the ones they were about to do. Usually it was Four who objected to whatever Eric had up his sleeve.

Zeke nodded, and Eric pulled something out of his jacket pocket - a bag of little white pills. He winked to Zeke and placed them in his hand.

Zeke disappeared into the kitchen, placing individual tablets of the bag into a few of the assorted full cups. Courtesy of Four's own generosity.

Idiot.

When he was done, Zeke discarded the bag in the trash and walked by Eric, winking.

Then it was Eric's turn.

He saw her across the room.

Small, blonde, looking around in all directions, eyes always searching. She didn't belong.

Eric saw the cup she selected, and he just had a feeling.

* * *

Everything happened so fast.

She remembered her heavy footsteps as large hands carried her upstairs. She imagined they would be her father's, carrying her after she had fallen asleep. Her waking moments.

She felt warm all over. Her color perception was distorted, and for a bit everything was green, and then red, and then blue - like Four's eyes.

She felt herself being thrown on the bed. She saw a blurred face, and that's when it happened. That's when Beatrice's world changed.

* * *

Four struggled to be heard over the roar of the music. The lights flashed different colors. Even at his considerable height, he could not find his petite blonde beauty.

It didn't make sense for her to be upstairs. That's where kids did drugs. The booze was downstairs.

Still, he climbed the stairs two at a time. The noise level was no better there.

A crowd was formed around the upstairs bedroom that belonged to his father. Camera phones were out, the door cracked open.

His heart sank, dropped beyond the pit of his stomach and into the ground. No. It couldn't be happening.

He broke the crowd, forcing his way in, and shoved the people out of the way.

And there she was.

Beatrice.

She was naked from the waist down, squirming, barely conscious. Her mouth was open, maybe muttering words.

"Four…"

His heart might have been pounding a million beats per minute. But he'd never know - physical sensations were nothing. He wanted to hurt the people who did this to her.

Because they did it to him, too.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Enjoy this one! I wrote this in between swimming because SPRING BREAK! **

Parties were loud. Caleb learned that as soon as he got there. But nothing could be as loud in as many ways as this one was.

He saw Four, the host, pushing through a crowd of people into a room, and then saw him chasing members of the crowd out.

Caleb stood next to the bathroom, near-holding a very intoxicated and barely conscious Peter.

He heard his sister's name being called. It traveled like a low wave across the hall.

Dread filled him. He slapped his subject, and soon both were pushing through the thinner crowd outside of the bedroom.

He placed a hand over his mouth to stifle a sob at what he saw. His sister, his Beatrice, sprawled on a queen-size bed, half-naked, exposed. Violated.

He couldn't look away. He walked to her, gently, and placed a hand on her forehead. It felt warm. He stroked her face gently. "Beatrice…"

She couldn't say anything, but she raised her right arm to grasp Caleb.

Four burst in then.

"Do you two have a car? I already called the police. I'm going to murder whoever did this, I don't care about the consequences."

"What time is it?" asked Peter, who was now attempting to stand in the corner of the room.

Caleb said, "About ten-thirty" at the same time that Four said "Shut up, Peter."

"I have a car," Peter mumbled. "I needed a driver anyways."

"Perfect," said Four crisply. "Which one is it?"

"The white Prius," he said, his words a string slurred together.

"Nice."

"Where are we going?" asked Caleb.

Four grabbed a blanket and threw it around Beatrice, scooping her up in his arms.

"I can carry her," said Caleb impatiently.

"Take care of him," Four instructed, nodding to Peter. "All four of us. I'll drive."

Caleb grabbed Peter's hand and led the intoxicated boy out of the bedroom, following Four's lead as he dodged crowds of partygoers.

They loaded into Peter's car, Four starting the car and backing out as carefully as possible. Peter was on the verge of unconsciousness while Caleb, in the backseat, stroked his sister's hair gently. His sister.

He leaned forward, grabbing the back of Four's seat. "Where are we going?"

"The hospital," said Four impatiently.

He looked down at his sister. "Why? Is it that serious?"

"What about the police?" asked Peter, his hair and words both messes.

"Already notified," said Four, waving his hand dismissively. "We'll call them again once we get there."

They pulled into Regional Hospital at ten-fifty-nine.

"Wait," said Caleb, his stomach twisting, "I don't know if this is a good idea. I think she'd want us to tell the police. She hates doctors."

The sound of Peter retching interrupted Four's response.

"We need to make sure there's no internal damage. She might need to have her stomach pumped, those tranquilizers can stay with you awhile."

"She won't want a doctor inside her. She needs time to process what happened."

"We can tell the school," said Peter slowly from the passenger seat. "On Monday."

"First thing in the morning," said Four, nodding.

Caleb took his sister in one arm and grabbed something from his pocket - a spare piece of paper. He extracted a pen from his shirt pocket and scribbled down his phone number.

"But we're taking her to the police station. They can tell your parents and then they can decide if she needs hospital time."

Caleb nodded.

* * *

She was back at school on Tuesday.

For most of the weekend she was silent. Sometimes she'd cry, sometimes she'd hug Caleb. But most of the time she just stared at the ceiling and thought.

When she entered the school building on Tuesday morning, holding Caleb's hand, she expected nothing out of the ordinary. Instead hundreds of states pierced her.

But they weren't staring at her because of her lack of glasses, or her hair that fell down her back in waves, or her tight, black clothes.

They stared because of what had happened to her.

A hand grasped her shoulder. It was Four's.

She felt safer now.

Funny, how that was. It was his house where it happened. It was he who persuaded her to stay at the party. His family members slept in the bed where her life turned around.

* * *

Students' stares didn't just extend to Beatrice. Caleb felt eyes press into him into all of his classes. Some kids laughed.

At lunch, he searched the cafeteria for the usual table he sat at with Beatrice. He couldn't find her.

Two boys came up to him - Peter, looking considerably more conscious than Caleb had last seen him, and a tall, dark-skinned one with black hair.

"I'm Uriah," he said, smiling. Peter nodded. "You're Tris's brother, right?"

"Tris…" he sounded it out under his breath. Beatrice. "Yeah. Yeah, why?"

"Four and her and a couple of us are all sitting together. Wanna join?"

Caleb smiled. He had never been asked to sit with anyone at lunch before. "Yeah. Sure."

There were seven in all - Four, "Tris", Peter, Uriah, and Caleb were joined by two kids named Christina and Will.

"So, Tris," Christina said, biting into her burger, "what's your favorite band?"

"Um…" She looked visibly nervous. "I don't really listen to music. There is this one band… Barney and Friends?"

"Barney and Friends?"

"They saved my life."

Everyone at the table with the exception of the Prior siblings exchanged looks.

"So what do you do besides listen to Barney and Friends?" asked Uriah.

"Caleb mostly studies. And I guess I just read."

"Books," said Peter. Tris nodded, but Uriah flicked him.

Most of the period was spent talking about bands and making music recommendations for the siblings. Most of the names didn't make much sense to Caleb - "Pink Floyd", "Fitz and the Tantrums", "Of Monsters and Men", "Led Zeppelin", and "The Black Keys" were not names for groups of people.

An argument broke out.

"No, but really, man, Floyd is totally better than Zeppelin," said Peter indignantly.

"Nope," insisted Four. "Plant could kick Waters' ass."

"I didn't say he couldn't. I mean, Page might be loud, but Gilmour speaks to people."

"Yeah, speaks to people in altered states of consciousness."

"Whatever you say, Four."

Four rolled his eyes. "This isn't over, Hayes."

* * *

Four walked Tris to her next class, protectively keeping a hand on her, making sure no one got near her.

"Who were those people?" she asked when she was sure they were all disbanded.

He spoke rapidly. "Uh, well, you know Caleb and I. There's… Uriah, on the basketball team. Peter, he's done every drug on the planet. Will and Christina, they're going out. He's really smart, I wouldn't be surprised if your brother knows him. And her dad is rich or something."

"They didn't seem too bad."

"They aren't. Except for Peter, sometimes. He's run in some shady circles before. Kind of has a mean streak, but he told me his old group of douches excommunicated him."

They had already arrived at her next class, Biology.

"Bye, Tris. I'll see you after school."

"Will you?"

"Yeah. Meet me by the North field, okay?"

Tris nodded. "I will. See you then."

* * *

English II with Mr. Kang was Peter's least favorite subject. Thankfully it was nearly over.

"And here is last week's quiz. Have a nice afternoon, and I'll see you tomorrow."

He quickly handed stacks to the first person of each row of desks. When Edward, the kid in front of him, saw Peter's grade, he laughed. Peter mock-laughed and rolled his eyes, uncrossing his arms and sitting up to take the paper.

A "D-". 62%, to be specific.

He glanced at Tris's brother, Caleb's, paper. An "A", 98%. He must have gotten one question wrong.

"Peter, can I speak to you after class? And…" His eyes searched the room. "Mr. Prior."

They exchanged looks with each other. The bell rang. Peter saw Caleb gulping.

"There's no chewing gum in my class, Mr. Hayes," said Mr. Kang, staring him in the eye. Peter rolled his eyes again and spit it out.

"Anyways… that's the fourth 'D' in a row, Peter."

"That's what she said," replied Peter cooly. Caleb snorted.

"Since you repeatedly fail to ask for the help in this class that you so desperately need, Peter," continued Kang, "I've decided you will have to get help. So I've assigned you a tutor. That's where Caleb here comes in."

"Is it?"

"It is. Caleb, meet me here after school and I'll give you a list of topics Peter here fails to understand."

Peter didn't even protest. "Is my house at six good?"

Caleb nodded. "Good."

He left, and began walking to his next class.

* * *

Tris' heart pounded as she near skipped to the North field. Her heart was beating quickly. She had heard about after-school encounters on school property in her books, but she had never had one.

She feared being stood up. She feared uncertainty in general. But she knew Four wouldn't give up on her. Not after everything he had done for her in the past few days.

Many of the buses had already departed before she saw a large, dark figure coming toward her. He was blurred by the mirage of sunlight. She waved and he did the same.

"Hey," he breathed when he got up to her. She noticed his face was a pink color.

"Hi," she said. "Why did you want to meet me here?"

"I just figured that we're going to be spending a lot of time together, so there are a few things you should know about me."

"Like what?"

"Ever wondered why my name is Four?"

"Yeah, I have. Everyone has."

"It's the time I wake up every morning."

"Why four?"

"That's when my dad leaves."

"Why can't you wake up before?"

"Because…" he trailed off. "My dad… he…. he's…. he's a douche."

"Really? So's mine."

He smiled expectantly. "I might change it to five soon, I don't know."

"Then can I still call you Four?"

"Not after now. I want you to call me by my real name."

"What's that?"

"Tobias Eaton."

"Okay, Tobias."

"Okay, Tris."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This one manages to be both humorous and intense, if it has the effect I imagined. Sorry for its brevity. This chapter was written by myself, with ideas and inspiration from my colleague the Little Mary-Jane. It's dedicated to our friend Smokerella. **

* * *

Peter was having a pleasantly psychedelic dream. He was in deep space, only nebulae were replaced by massive, stretched-out cheeseburgers. 'Wish You Were Here' played as he traversed through the galaxy.

Only David Gilmour's vocals were interrupted by a ding-dong.

He snapped awake. The sound continued. He trudged out of bed and walked to the door.

It didn't have a peephole, which Peter hated. He swung it open as the person rang the bell again.

Caleb Prior stood outside of his house at five-fifty-one in the morning. He looked tired, but eager, and he was holding a stack of books and some papers in a plastic bin.

"Good morning."

Peter shut the door in his face.

* * *

Tris couldn't decide what to feel.

She'd had dreams about him, about Tobias. She'd dreamt about the North field where they'd met.

But when she woke up the euphoria was gone, and she was reminded of the cold reality of her life. She turned off her alarm, which blasted "I Love You, You Love Me". Even Barney and Friends couldn't make her feel as good as she felt in the dream.

Home alone as per her parents' departure to work, she dressed and walked downstairs to the kitchen. On the table a Post-It note was stuck and scribbled on in Caleb's handwriting.

_Left early for my tutoring session. Hope you can walk alone. Love you._

_Caleb_

A tutoring session at seven in the morning? Tris shrugged. She crumpled the note up and threw it away, selecting an apple and walking outside. Another day ahead of her, another day she dreaded.

* * *

First-period P.E. with Coach Amar was one of three classes Tobias shared with Eric. It was also one of three classes that he should have liked, but hated.

His mile time was 6:21. He would have gone faster, but he was, to say, a bit caught up in his thoughts during his lap.

Tobias began to stretch when he saw several pairs of shoes walking up to him. A pack, led by one.

"Four," said Eric. Tobias didn't look up, just continued to reach for his toes.

"Four," he repeated.

Nothing.

"What, are you deaf or something? I said, 'Four'."

He looked up.

"So you and that slut, huh?"

Tobias rose to his full height and stared into Eric's eyes. They were dark brown and empty, like black pits.

"What did you call her?"

"I said, 'slut'. That's what she is. She got too drunk and then we availed that and she regretted it, so she cried rape."

"Shut the fuck up," Tobias said quietly.

"What?"

"I said, 'Shut the fuck up'."

"No, you didn't."

"I think I fucking did."

* * *

"Where's Four?" Caleb heard Tris ask Christina. Lunch would be over in five minutes.

She shrugged. "I heard some guys in my Art class talking about him and Eric, but I couldn't hear them very well."

Peter took this as his cue to say something. "Eric is fucked up. No joke. He was telling me like a month ago about this time that he raped this 14-year-old in the Virgin Islands, and he started crying, and he gave me a big hug."

"You're an idiot," said Will dismissively as he took the pickles from his lunch and placed them into a plastic cup.

Peter swiped the cup and started eating the pickles. "No, I'm just saying… if you hear an announcement over the P.A. telling you that Eric has been transferred to a mental hospital, don't be surprised."

"I wouldn't be surprised if we heard you got transferred to a mental hospital," said Christina.

"No, it would probably be a rehab facility," added Will, smirking.

"Why do you all hate me so much?" Peter sounded aggravated, but he was still smiling.

"I don't hate you," Caleb blurted out.

Peter smiled, half genuine, half sarcastic. "By the way, guess who showed up at my doorstep at six in the goddamn morning? If you guessed Caleb Prior, you're correct."

Caleb felt his cheeks heat up. Christina and Will burst out laughing. Tris stifled a laugh of her own, but she stopped smiling when she saw Caleb turn bright red.

"Like, tell me," Peter said between bites of pickle, "how the smartest kid in the school can't infer that when someone says 'my house at six', they mean six P.M.?"

The bell rang and people started to get up.

"You think I'm the smartest kid in the school?"

"I know you are."

Caleb felt good. No one had ever really acknowledged his intelligence with words, just with looks of approval. Peter made it verbal.

"Now come on, Einstein," said Peter, flicking the empty cup back to Will, "let's start heading to Kang's class before he expels me for being thirty seconds late."

* * *

Tris could have sworn it felt about fifteen degrees colder in the hallway without Four to guide her to Biology. Ms. Matthews' cold stare almost made her shiver.

"Where were you at lunch?" she asked Uriah when he sat down in the next seat over, waiting for his lab partner.

"My brother got in trouble," he breathed, flicking a piece of his long hair from his face, "and he wanted me there."

"Why'd he get in trouble?"

The bell to begin class rang out.

"At Four's party. Him and Eric did some stuff they weren't supposed to."

A cold wind rushed down Tris' back, and suddenly she felt nauseous.

"Was Four there?"

Before Uriah could answer, Ms. Matthews called, "Beatrice."

"Yes, Ms. Matthews?"

"Tell me, what is the purpose of a ribosome?"

This wouldn't be good. Ms. Matthews was Tris' only teacher that she didn't get along with. For reasons she was completely ignorant of, Matthews hated her.

Tris felt the stares of all of her classmates pierce her skin like glass, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. She felt a lump rise in her throat. Her heart pumped and she felt light in the head. It became harder to breathe as she struggled to get words out and air in.

"Are you okay?" asked the girl next to her, but not in the usual high voice. Her voice sounded deep and manly but warm at the same time. Tobias...

Tris felt herself shrinking into the ground. Ms. Matthews' voice echoed as she said, "Beatrice."

"I think she's having a panic attack!" shouted someone who sounded like Uriah. "Someone get a nurse's pass!"

She saw everything in blue, green, red. She could feel a boy carrying her, or could she? She heard her name being called again and again. And boys' laughter.

Tears began to fall from her eyes and darkness shrouded her blurred vision, until everything was pure black.

* * *

"Is she awake?"

"I think."

Tris' eyes fluttered open and she was met by a pair of deep, dark blue ones.

"Hey," Tobias said.

"Hi," she croaked. "Where am I?"

"You're in the nurse's office," said a third voice. Uriah. "You blacked out in Biology. I brought you here."

"How long have I been out?"

"An hour or so. Everyone left except us."

"Even Caleb?"

"He said he'd tell your parents."

"He gave us your address so we could take you home," added Tobias.

"What time is it?" Tris rose up from her bed and immediately regretted it, the feeling of lightheadedness flooding her.

Tobias touched his hands to her shoulders. "It's 3:30. Calm down, you can stay here longer."

"I don't want to." She swung her leg over the side of the recovery cot and grabbed Uriah's hand as support. Her heart started thumping again, but she ignored it.

"We have to tell the nurse you're leaving," said Uriah.

"Then tell her."

Uriah walked back to the nurse's small office and exchanged some words with her. A sign on the window of her office read "Mrs. Reyes".

"Okay," Uriah said after a minute or two, "we're free to go. But she thinks you should abstain from speaking in class too much."

"I didn't even raise my hand," Tris began to protest, "Matthews called on me, that bitch!"

Uriah looked to Tobias and started laughing. Tobias grinned and stared at Tris.

"What?"

"Beatrice Prior does not swear," said Uriah, hands on his hips.

"I'm not Beatrice. It's Tris."

She walked past them and they had no choice but to follow.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Wow, this is by far this story's longest chapter! Anyways, thank you for all the support, reviews, follows, and favorites. I reward you by having Caleb and Peter smoke weed together.**

**CONTENT WARNING: Rated T for teen drug use, child abuse, assault mentions, and Harry Nilsson.**

"I don't get it," Peter moaned, pressing his head to his kitchen table. Late afternoon light streamed in through the window.

"Then think of it as answering each individual phrase of the question," said Caleb gently. "What does it mean to escape prejudice?"

Peter stared at him, the frustration palpable. "I don't know."

"Come on, just think deeper."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. Define prejudice?"

"It's… when you judge someone based on something they can't control… like their skin color, or something?"

"Good, yes. Yes. How do you escape prejudice?"

"You… die?"

"Well, that's kind of… emo."

"Wanna get high?"

"Peter, no. I'm not going to drugs with you until you finish these questions. Did you even read _Of Mice and Men_?"

"No."

"Fine. I give up."

"So we can get high?"

"No. No! Haven't you considered that maybe you're failing English because all you do is put illegal things in your nose?"

"Haven't you considered that maybe you don't have a girlfriend because all you do is put illegal things up your ass?"

"Don't you have parents?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Caleb sighed heavily. "Peter, what's your favorite book?"

Peter just stared at him. He got up from the table and disappeared down one of the hallways of his house. Caleb was considering following him when he returned with a large green shoebox.

"Okay, this box contains all the secrets of the universe. What do you do with it?"

* * *

Tris hadn't expected her house to be empty.

"Hello?" she called out. Her voice echoed through the foyer, but received no response.

"Hello?"

The house smelled good, like dinner, but she didn't hear any water boiling or dishes clinking or mothers humming.

A near-exact replica of the note Caleb had left her that morning was stuck to the kitchen table, but nothing from her parents, who normally came home at three.

Tris looked to the clock on the wall. It read 3:56.

Tris took a few more steps forward. She saw something, a dark, hooded figure, dart through the hallway in front of her. She walked toward it, but then she stopped. She felt motion behind her. And then in front of her. So she just went left.

She looked from side to side and opened her mouth to breathe. But then it closed - she didn't close it. A hand grabbed her and shoved something into her mouth. She struggled against the headlock of the person, but they were too strong.

"Shut it, Prior."

* * *

Tobias loved Tris. He did.

He loved her soft blonde hair, her wide, alert eyes, the curves of her nose, the curves of her body. He loved her wakefulness, her confidence. Everything about her.

But he loved the escape she provided him, too, as selfish as that was. She provided him with time from his father. And as much as he wanted to tell her that, he couldn't.

"Son."

Marcus' voice bounced off of the walls and back to Tobias. He felt a cold air rush down his back.

"Where were you?"

Tobias looked down at the floor, grey tiles. This was where Peter puked. It was where Tris unwittingly took the cup with the drug in it. It was where his world turned around. On the ground floor of his house.

"My friend had a panic attack in class," he said, avoiding his father's gaze. "I helped her."

"Her?"

Tobias nodded. He shifted his gaze upward, fighting his fear of his father. "A girl."

"You concern yourself with girls rather than own up to what you did," Marcus said quietly. "Tell me… was it the same girl?"

His eyes moved up and locked with his father's. "I didn't take a turn on her. No matter what you hear, know that I didn't. I would never do that to anyone."

"You wouldn't?"

"No. Never, Father. Never."

"Did she cry out in pain?" His father's eyes were like ones Tobias had never seen before, full of malice, anger, greed, dreams. He began to undo his belt, carefully, one loop at a time. "Did it feel like this?"

* * *

Caleb couldn't help but giggle.

Peter joined him, smirking as he watched Caleb.

"What?" Caleb tried to sound serious, but he couldn't. It was just too funny.

Peter cackled, leaning back on his chair.

Caleb tried to form words, but again he erupted in laughs, shoulders shaking, stomach aching.

Speaking of stomachs, his was growling.

"I'm so hungry, Peter. I don't know if… if I'm going to make it. I… I need food."

Peter burst into laughter. He leaned back in his chair, pushing it so that he fell. Caleb jumped with shock.

Peter laughed, backwards-combat-rolled a few feet, and then got up, exiting the kitchen again.

"Where are you going?" called Caleb.

"You'll see."

A few moments later, Peter returned, carrying another shoebox, this time blue and a bit larger than the last one.

He opened it carefully and pushed it to Caleb. Inside of it were rows of assorted foods, mainly chips and cheese products. And in a little corner, a wad of cash.

"What's the money for?" asked Caleb, removing a bag of Cheetos.

Peter shrugged. "Whatever I need it for."

Caleb's face suddenly turned serious. "No, man…" he said, taking Peter's hand. "It's whatever _we_ need it for."

* * *

"Let… me… go!"

Tris struggled against her attacker's strong arms. She kicked, but his other arm restrained her there, too.

"We won't let you go," he said, "until you pay for what you did." The voice was undeniably male, but also unfamiliar, and it struck her painfully. But whose was it? It was too glassy to be Tobias', too low to be Caleb's, too steady to be Peter's, and too serious to be Uriah's.

"What did I do?" she screamed as she jerked her entire body forward in an effort to be let loose. If only she could see the attacker's face. She bet it was punchable.

"You fucked up the whole school," another voice replied. This one was reminiscent of one she'd heard before. If only she could point out who… "You fucked up the whole system."

"You're twisted, aren't you, Prior?" said the first voice. "Just like us. But no lie, Prior… you were good."

Dread ran down her. No. It was them. From the party. It was them.

She suddenly jolted her body forward and backward, making his grip on her falter. She used her weak elbow to hit him on the chest, effectively weakening him. She moved her legs so she'd be able to move more.

"What did you with my parents?" she yelled. She was in a state of limbo - half dependent, half independent, and at risk of falling all the same.

"Nothing," breathed the boy, who was really more like a man. His face, she could now see. He had long, greasy hair and several facial piercings, most of which were probably illegal. She remembered how Peter had described Eric.

Her heart sank, but she resolved to keep pushing. "Where are they?"

"We distracted them," he told her simply, trying to strengthen his grip again, "and they won't be home for awhile."

The other boy - there were just two of them in all, thankfully - smirked. Was this Uriah's brother?

Like divine intervention, Tris heard something out of her left ear - a car horn honking. She heard a door slamming, and then footsteps.

She saw Eric and Uriah's brother escaping via the garage, which her parents never used. But how would they know that?

"Guess you were wrong," she called.

The door opened, then closed.

"Beatrice," her mother said. She opened her arms like a hug.

And Tris went gladly into her embrace.

* * *

Tobias lay on his side on his bed, both unable and unwilling to fall asleep. The new scars on his back ached.

Dreams called his name, but he couldn't go to them, as much as he wanted to.

Thoughts of his father and Tris infiltrated his mind, encroaching on his will to relax. He wanted to make sure she was safe - Eric had sworn he'd get revenge on him in the principal's office. But he also wanted to make sure that he was safe, and Marcus prevented him from doing that.

He pulled out his phone and searched through his contacts. He found Caleb's place. The time told him it was 11:32, so Caleb would probably be asleep by now, but it was worth a shot.

_Does Tris have a phone?_

To his surprise, a reply came just seconds later. _No, why?_

_Why do you think?_

Caleb's reply took a little longer this time._ Don't you think you're kind of old to be with my little sister?_

_She isn't your 'little' anything._

_Good night, Four._

_Good night, Caleb._

Tobias smirked and set his phone down. And, somehow, sleep came to him.

* * *

Peter slammed his lunch tray down on the cafeteria table. Caleb saw that his eyes looked watery - darker than usual, and less clouded. He looked like he was ready to kill.

"Good day to you, too," said Will.

Peter smirked, and then cast the tray off the table, so that its contents landed on the floor.

He was met with stares.

"Who peed in your cereal this morning?" asked Christina, bending over to pick up the tray. Tris immediately began to help her.

"Coach Amar," Peter said. He crossed his arms in front of him and placed his head between them.

"What, bad mile time?" guessed Four.

"Put on a squad with nerds?" added Uriah.

"Didn't make the women's lacrosse team?" Caleb asked.

"Guess who can't be on the water polo team this year," said Peter, his words slightly muffled, "because he failed a drug test?"

Christina laughed. Peter glared at her, and she stopped.

"Pee-in-a-cup?" asked Four. Peter nodded.

"That sucks," offered Uriah.

"Yeah, it does. And they gave my spot away. To some kid named Edward."

"Isn't he in our English class?" asked Caleb.

"That's the one. He's so annoying. Like, every time I get a bad grade, he laughs his ass off."

"He must do a lot of laughing," observed Uriah. The others laughed, but Caleb rolled his eyes.

"I'm gonna hurt him," said Peter simply. "Little shit needs to learn."

"It's not his fault he got your spot," said Tris. "You could hurt the coach."

Four laughed.

"Or," said Will tentatively, "you could stop doing drugs."

The rest of the table laughed then. Except Caleb.

"I was serious!" Will defended. "You know, Peter… I heard about this time that Harry Nilsson went into the studio to record, and he opened his mouth to sing, and blood just poured out. His throat hemorrhaged from cocaine use."

Peter looked horrified.

"Really?" asked Tris, looking as shocked as ever.

"Yeah. Legit. But he didn't even die."

Peter shrugged. "Harry Nilsson was a pussy anyways. Plus, I'm only sixteen."

"Half the age Keith Moon was when he died," said Christina. Peter stuck his tongue out at her.

"What are they going to do with your test results?" asked Caleb.

"Let's hope they don't mail them to the principal," said Uriah. "You'd be dead."

"Where would I even go?" Peter asked.

"Oh, no…" Four looked full of despair. "The… counselor!"

"We have a counselor?" asked Tris.

Christina shrugged. "Apparently."

"If she does exist," said Will, wiping something off his mouth, "I think we'd all fare better seeing her."

* * *

Tris tapped her pencil impatiently in Biology.

She was supposed to be doing group work, but her entire group was done and they were now awaiting Matthews, who was checking answers. Almost undeniably, she'd say something bitchy to Tris.

"I hate Ms. Matthews," she said under her breath, but loud enough so that Uriah could hear her.

"Who doesn't?" he replied.

Tris heard her teacher's footsteps become louder as she approached her table. Tris' stomach twisted when Mrs. Matthews got close. She leaned her head over onto Tris' paper. She could smell the perfume.

"Number six is incorrect," she said flatly. "The question about ribosomes."

"Oh," said Tris. She leaned in to look at the paper.

"We had a nice, thorough discussion about ribosomes in class yesterday. If only you and Mr. Pedrad had been here, you might have received 100% credit. But I'll have to mark you as a 90%."

Anger and anxiety rushed through her. She'd freaked out! And now she got marked off for it?

Why did that woman hate her so much?

Tris rolled her eyes and picked up her pencil as Mrs. Matthews walked to the next table.

She walked over to the shelf where the textbooks were and retrieved one. She carried it back to her table. Opening it to the table of contents, something caught her eye.

The back of the cover was scribbled on in purple marker. She opened it there, where the names of the past owners were.

_Tobias Eaton - Good luck with Matthews._

She could hardly believe it. He had used that textbook, two years earlier? And he'd hated her just as much as she did?

Shaking her head, Tris flipped to the section about the structure of cells. And as much as she now hated ribosomes, she couldn't help but smile.

* * *

English classrooms were kind of like coffee shops. People bustling around, meaningless chatter, an air of nervousness.

"You can get your textbooks now," said Mr. Kang, and the class immediately became chaotic. They had to use a separate textbook for grammar and English-language conventions.

"For homework tonight, your assignment is questions 1-6 on page 94. Understood?"

The class nodded.

"You have about ten minutes of this period left, so you can start now if you'd like."

Caleb was in the process of helping the boy behind him when he felt a cold pair of eyes staring at him.

He looked up. Peter winked at him. Caleb rolled his eyes.

Peter leaned over and placed his elbow on Caleb's desk.

"What?" asked Caleb, closing the textbook.

"You wanna… tutor me tonight?" he asked, winking again. The boy behind him giggled.

"Sure," said Caleb. "If you stop being suggestive."

"You're such a virgin."

"I know. It's sad."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Yep, here it is! I had a lazy day yesterday, got to spend some time with my S/O, so I worked on this at midnight. Still, somehow, I think it's some of my finest work, if that makes any sense. Sometimes I feel I'm writing this more for myself instead of you guys, because it always ends up with more Peter & Caleb than Four & Tris. But, then again, Peter and Caleb are mostly dialogue and clever wordplay where Four and Tris are deep and reflective. So here's a relatively short chapter about, like, love and stuff. **

**CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of rape. **

* * *

Tris dreamed she was running from Eric. It was dusk and the moon was her only source of light as she fled through a forest.

Her legs pumped until breathing got hard, but she got snagged on a branch from a fallen tree. She fell down, clattering to the cold, dark floor. Tears formed on her face as she felt Eric near her.

She felt the wetness on her pillow when she woke up.

But it wasn't real, none of it was real.

She could have sworn she felt her area ache as she woke up. But morning sunlight didn't drench her perception.

Her eyes shot to the alarm clock next to her bed. It read 8:02.

Tris coughed and rolled over.

* * *

"So, you wanna get high?"

Caleb snorted. "Maybe we should study."

Peter rolled his eyes and sat down across from Caleb. "I'm not ineligible for sports because of my GPA," he reminded him.

"That's right. You're ineligible for sports because you have a problem."

Peter lost his playful look, his eyes narrowing. He scoffed. "I do not."

"You kind of do," said Caleb, placing his arm on the table. "The first time I met you, you literally fell into my arms. You couldn't even stand up, you were so drunk."

"It was a Friday night. At a party."

"Do you only do cocaine at parties?"

"No," said Peter. "I only do copious amounts of cocaine at parties."

"I see…" Caleb trailed off, biting his tongue. "All I'm saying is, from the look of it, you don't know how to have fun without drugs or alcohol."

"At least I know how to have fun."

Caleb hated how desperate he sounded when he asked,

"Can you teach me?"

* * *

Uriah had spent most of his life listening.

He sat up in his room when he was ten years old, hearing the muffled screams of his parents. He heard their marriage end from on top of a twin bed.

He listened to the neighborhood cats wailing in heat.

He listened to the boy down the street nearly die after crashing his street-illegal vehicle.

And now he heard Zeke losing it.

He felt silly, childlike, sitting up from his room and listening to his brother scream into the phone. He couldn't make out every word that Zeke said, but every sentence or so, he'd raise his voice and Uriah could tell what he was saying.

He made out the words "principal", "punishment", "Four", "slut", and "turn". What had happened at that party? Uriah wished he had been there, but he had been sick that night.

As far as he could tell from listening to Zeke, he and Eric had done something with a girl at a party and were now in trouble with the school for it. Did Four rat them out? Would Four do that? Uriah didn't know. He didn't know Four very well.

He didn't really know his brother very well either, he came to realize. He thought that Zeke would at least be above taking turns on a drunk girl. He thought he would be smart enough not to let himself get punished for it.

And he knew Eric wasn't above that. But Zeke wasn't Eric.

Maybe nobody was really "above" anything. Maybe we can't know somebody without being them.

Maybe we're all just shades of gray.

* * *

Caleb wasn't at school on Monday.

Peter sat in the lunch room between Tris and Will, both of whom were engaged in conversations with someone else. Uriah sat across from him, but every time Peter's eyes flitted up, Uriah's were gone.

He got up from the table to use the restroom, and a few yards away, someone grabbed him.

His forearm was seized by none other than Eric.

Peter protested, but Eric's grip was tight and strong.

"Good afternoon, Hayes," bid Eric with a fake smile. "We haven't spoken in awhile."

Peter coughed, looking down at the floor and then up at Eric with stony eyes.

"I know what you think of me, Peter," he breathed. "I know you tell yourself you aren't afraid of me. You think I don't know anything, that I don't see anything. But I do see things, a lot of things. Tell me, why is it, Peter, that you think I don't see what's going on between you and the boy Prior? The way your hand grazes against his when you stand together, or the way you hold eye contact with him three seconds longer than you hold eye contact with anyone else. I mean, I could see why you like him, knowing you. Looking at him must be like looking in a mirror. Soften his features a bit and you two could be twins."

"Shut up, Eric."

He shifted his weight and smirked. "You think I'm the villain, Peter, don't you?"

"Well, I know you're not above sexually assaulting a woman and then running from the consequences of it."

Eric's smile fell. "Don't act like you are. Peter Hayes, the bully. Peter Hayes, the partying legend. Peter Hayes, the things he'll do for love. You were just in the right place at the right time. You would have taken a turn on her if you hadn't found your love at that party."

"Shut up," he said again, louder this time.

Eric sucked air in, a noise that just hearing pissed Peter off. "No can do. You're pretty fierce, Peter, as we all know. But there's a certain quality you have that made you such a great lackey to me."

"And what's that?"

"You always pay your debts. You'll pay this one, Peter Hayes, or you will _pay_..." He looked into the distance, a thousand-yard stare at nothing in particular. He looked back to Peter and smiled. "You and Caleb both."

Eric let go of Peter's arm. He winked and then walked off.

A few people were staring at the boy alone in the middle of the cafeteria. But he didn't care. He would ruin Eric.

* * *

Tris couldn't keep her heart from racing. She'd been invited on a date.

Tobias had asked her out, his lips having formed the words "the movies on Saturday". Those very lips she wanted to kiss.

Were they dating now? She'd never had a boyfriend before. But she'd heard chatter about relationships. Their first date hadn't even happened.

And as clueless as Tris was about boys, she wasn't dumb. She knew Tobias liked her the same way she liked him.

She didn't own any makeup. She knew boys liked that - according to Christina, though, they always denied that they did. She didn't own any revealing clothes, just all the black that she bought the weekend after.

After… it. She bit her lip. She'd never had a boyfriend, but she'd had boys inside her.

She tasted blood, and she wiped it away with her sleeve. She felt the lump in her throat and the weakness of her eyes; the onset of tears. But Tris wouldn't cry.

Just four more days until the first date of her life. It would be the best date of her life. It would.

* * *

Sunlight streamed into Caleb's room through the window. He lay on the bed, feeling the warmth on his face. Peter sat at his feet, one knee on his chest, the other leg stretched to Caleb's shoulder.

The light hit his hair perfectly, making it shine like gold. Everyone looked younger drenched in sunlight, the same way everyone looked younger asleep.

"You're so pretty," said Caleb, tickling Peter's toe.

"I'm from California," he said, smiling. "Everyone's pretty there."

"Why'd you move to this frozen hellhole, then?"

Peter shrugged. "Maybe to meet you."

Caleb sat up, reaching his hand to Peter's knee and tapping it.

"Is that supposed to be sexy?"

Caleb leaned forward and looked into Peter's eyes. They were darker than his, more surely green. On his nose were a few scattered freckles.

Caleb sighed and looked down.

"Can I do something I've been waiting to do for awhile?"

Peter's eyebrows furrowed slightly, questioningly. But then they rose back to their natural position. "Allow me."

Peter took Caleb's face in his hand and kissed him. Peter's lips were soft and warm and they made Caleb feel… safe. They kissed for a long time before Caleb was ready to let go.

* * *

Sometimes, music was Tobias' only escape from the world.

Whenever he needed to cry, whenever Marcus hurt him, whenever he was just being a teenager, it was never another human who came to the rescue. It was always rhythm and lyrics.

Except now.

Tris wasn't here, but he could feel her. He knew she was thinking about her, and in that way, in some otherworldly, ethereal way, she was there. He wanted to take her hand, but it wasn't real. And plus, she was already holding his.

At night, he dreamt of her. Being her knight in shining armor. Sweeping her off of her feet. And when he did, it wasn't like he was carrying any weight. Almost like he was being swept himself.

When he wasn't dreaming of her, he was dreaming of Eric. Dreaming of hurting him, exacting revenge. And she loved it. They all cheered in his dreams, but it wasn't the cheers of the masses that Tobias cared about. It was the pride in her eyes.

He swore then and there that would be her hero, just like in his dreams.

* * *

**A/N: So, yes. By popular demand (and by demand of my co-author), Peter and Caleb are, indeed, gay, in the same way that Bore and Trees are straight. Might want to go around writing "4'18'2k14" on everything. Also, yay to Uriah POV and Peter POV! **

**See ya next time.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Yep, here's the truth or dare chapter that we have all been waiting ages for. Also, I hate my Eric. Which means I've done a good villain. **

**CONTENT WARNING: General creepiness, mentions of drug use, old music.**

* * *

"What's your favorite animal?"

Peter took a strawberry from the bowl sitting on his bed and pretended to look pensive. "A chihuahua puppy." His enthusiasm and the tone of his voice were fake.

Caleb scoffed. "Favorite thing to do when bored?"

"Read Seventeen magazine, of course!"

They both laughed. Caleb's lips still tingled from the kiss. He wanted to do it again.

"Hey, catch this," said Peter. Caleb nodded, and opened his mouth while Peter tossed a strawberry. It landed on Caleb's neck.

Peter shook his head.

"Watch this."

Using an intricate routine of movements of the head and body, Caleb moved the strawberry to the tip of his chin. Then he stuck his tongue out and gathered the strawberry into his mouth using it.

Peter laughed. "What else can you do with your tongue?"

Caleb shrugged. "It's getting late. Maybe I can show you tomorrow."

* * *

Caleb returned home later than usual.

Tris heard him come in, shivering from the current of evening wind that followed his opening and closing the door. He was smiling, looking down at his phone.

"It's seven-forty-five," she said.

He looked up, seeming only slightly alarmed. "Have you already had dinner?"

She nodded. "Mom and Dad worked late, they'll be home any minute now."

Maybe she should get a tutoring job. She could see Tobias on weeknights. But then again, his dad was apparently a douchebag.

The only sounds in the house were the running TV and Caleb's shower water when their parents returned.

They both bid her goodnight without a word, which normally would have alarmed Tris, but ever since it happened, she had been paying less and less attention to them. They seemed quieter, but she had no time for silence. Certainly they'd noticed the change in her clothing and her demeanor, but they made no comments about it.

Tris realized then that her life was very different now than it was two weeks ago. So much happened in that short period of time from the party to now. So much happened to Caleb, as well.

She had noticed changes in everyone. Even Eric. She had seen him grab hold of Peter in the cafeteria the previous day.

Everything was changing. But maybe, it was good.

* * *

"Okay, everyone, truth or dare."

They ate lunch outside that day. It was hot and stuffy in the cafeteria, anyways. Tobias sat next to Tris, who sat next to Christina, then Will, then Caleb, then Peter, then Uriah.

"You know the rules," decreed Christina. "You ask the person to your left. If you pass, you have to remove a piece of clothing."

"I'll ask first," Will volunteered. "Christina, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Who was your first kiss?"

She gave him a disbelieving look, then rolled her eyes. "It was Robert McVeigh. In sixth grade. He kissed me by the monkey bars."

Peter clapped. She glared at him.

"Tris," Christina began, "truth or dare?"

"Dare," she said proudly. Tobias smiled. She was fierce.

"I dare you to... cartwheel across the cafeteria."

"Okay," she agreed. "Come and watch."

They all got up and stood outside the window, watching Tris complete the dare. She attracted some strange looks, but when she cartwheeled back out, everyone clapped. She curtsied, blushing. It felt good to be praised, thrilling even.

They all sat back down on the grass. Their order was somewhat screwed up. Tris now sat next to Caleb.

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"I dare you to read your last text that you received."

"Fine." He pulled out his phone and pressed the screen a few times - a few too many times to be believed. "'You're cute.'"

"Who's it from?" asked Peter, smirking. Tobias noticed something different in Peter's air - he asked a bit too quickly. Like he was planning it.

Caleb rolled his eyes and set his phone down. "Just some girl in my P.E. class. She said she wanted homework help, but apparently not."

Laughter broke out. Uriah catcalled.

"Peter, truth or dare?" Caleb asked.

"Truth."

"Who was your first?"

Peter smiled. "This girl in eighth. Her name was Kayla. She goes to Truman now. But she was really good, and she smelled nice."

"How old were you?" asked Christina, bewildered.

He shrugged. "Like, fourteen. And lonely."

Peter had lost his virginity at fourteen? Tobias felt embarrassed. He was eighteen and still a virgin.

"Uriah," Peter said quickly, "truth or dare?"

"Dare," he said proudly.

"Um… I dare you to teabag that nerd," he said, pointing to someone in the distance.

She was a small girl of about Tris' size with blonde hair and square glasses. She looked down as she walked.

Tris looked hurt when she stared back at Peter. Caleb was staring at him too, but with admiration, even curiosity. Tobias shook his head. Strange.

"Fine," Uriah agreed. They watched him walk up to her, take her hands, and swing her between his legs.

Laughter erupted from across the field.

Tobias remembered how he had run into Tris on the day of his party, and how everyone had laughed then. It was exactly the same, he realized.

Peter high-fived Uriah when he came back.

Tobias looked back to the girl, who was still walking off, looking at the ground. Tris looked down in the same way.

He felt terrible.

* * *

"This one's 'Turn Blue', it just came out last week."

Peter, chewing on a piece of gum, handed Caleb his headphones. They were hooked up to his computer, which was on iTunes. Caleb sat on Peter's bed.

The room smelled like marijuana and lavender, two strange smells that mixed to form the one he associated with Peter.

The other boy twirled around like Stevie Nicks, strangely in time with the song that he couldn't hear.

He walked up to Caleb and leaned in. Once the song ended, Peter changed it, his chest centimeters from Caleb's face.

He unhooked the headphones and the boys sat down on the bed. The song changed from an escalating psychedelic track to hard-rock madness.

"What is this?" Caleb asked.

"Technically, it's Jeff Beck," answered Peter. "But it's a studio collaboration between Jeff Beck and all the other famous rock stars of the age."

Peter's eyes lit up when he talked about music. Caleb liked that.

"Like who?"

"Uh… Keith Moon on drums. Maybe John Paul Jones on keyboard or bass. Jimmy Page is playing guitar. Yeah, some early members of Led Zeppelin."

Caleb leaned in and kissed Peter. He kissed back, hard.

* * *

"It's hot in here."

Tris looked at the clock. It read "9:24".

She crossed her arms in front of her and began to pull off her shirt, leaving her in just a black bra and panties. She wished, secretly, that Tobias could see her.

She flushed all the way down to her stomach. How silly she must have looked, blushing all alone in her room, in her unmentionables. Good thing no one could see her.

But her window was wide open. Tris was suddenly overcome with the feeling that she was being watched. Shaking, she shuffled over to the window.

She heard a laugh, familiar and menacing.

A shiver ran down Tris's spine. She saw a pair of binoculars, the reflected light of her window being the only thing she could see. But she looked closer, and she saw the Peeping Tom's figure.

Pale skin, black clothing and greasy black hair.

Pain shot through her, and her heart was beating uncontrollably. She stammered back, tears forming behind her eyes. He saw her.

She had never felt so exposed. No, that wasn't right. She had felt that exposed before. During the party.

Tris sank to the floor and let herself cry. She didn't feel shameful this time. Sobbing lifted a weight off of her shoulders, a weight that had been there for nearly two weeks.

* * *

Tobias awoke to the clatter of dishes striking each other. He heard water running, felt the plumbing in the house resound.

He listened to the sounds of his father's odd three-in-the-morning chores. He heard the TV running, and some hushed voices. Occasionally he'd hear the noise of a club hitting a ball, and someone yelling "PAR!". Golf.

He clenched his teeth, awaiting eagerly the moment when he would hear the sound of the door slamming, the sound of his father leaving. That was his favorite part of every morning.

The sound of his phone vibrating caught him off guard. It was a text from Peter.

_we need to talk_

Tobias rolled his eyes. Knowing Peter, he was probably just high out of his mind and wanted to tell Tobias how much he loved him.

_Don't text me when you're high. Stop listening to Arctic Monkeys._

The response came a minute or so later. _im straight. actually its kind of about that. but mostly its about eric. _

Tobias sighed. _Where should I meet you?_

_outside the cafeteria doors. like 730._

_AM, _Peter clarified a few seconds later.

Tobias' phone told him it was 4:13. _Why are you up this early?_

_im a paranoid teenager and im thinking about someone. id ask the same about you but im not nosy._

_You're an idiot._

_i know_

Tobias smiled and set his phone down.

* * *

Peter was standing on his tiptoes, shifting his weight nervously when he saw Four coming toward him.

"What's up?" Four asked him, digging his hands into his pockets.

Peter coughed nervously and surveyed the area, making sure Eric wasn't around. "It's about Eric."

"He's a douchebag, what about it?"

Peter coughed again, breathed deeply to keep his composure. He lunged toward Four, grabbing the other boy's hand with one of his, and taking his shoulder with the other. He pressed Four to the wall and looked around again, his breathing speeding up inevitably.

Four's eyes narrowed. "Are you high?"

"I wish."

"What is it about Eric? Did he say something to you? Did he threaten Caleb or Tris?"

"Four, I'm… I'm kind of…"

Four nodded, encouraging Peter to go on.

"Caleb and I are kind of… going out. Okay? But you can't tell anyone. Haze me or call me a fag or whatever, I like him a lot."

Four just nodded again, not even saying a word about it. "And what about Eric?"

"He… basically, he wants me to 'pay' for ditching his little douche-gang. He said if I don't, Caleb and I will pay. I think he's going to hurt…" Peter paused. "He's going to hurt Caleb, or me, or Tris. I don't think he's going to hurt you. He'll probably just hurt Caleb, because it'll make me miserable and Tris miserable, and her being miserable will make you miserable. He probably wants to see you cry or feel suicidal or something. He thinks that's payment."

Peter said this all without skipping a breath. Four stared at him, his mouth wide open.

Peter struggled to breathe again, his throat closing up like he was choking. He coughed again and suppressed his tears as best he could.

He felt Four's hand on his shoulder.

"What if he already started?" Peter hated himself for how needy he sounded, like he was pleading. He and Four were on the same team, or so he thought.

* * *

**A/N: Don't you just ship Peter and Caleb so hard? I know I do. **

**QOTC (Question of the Chapter): If given the chance, how hard would you punch Eric?**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: This chapter is pretty short, I know. But I had fun writing it... even though it took me a long time. I'll probably be updating every weekend from now on, during the week if I can. So, anyway, enjoy this. It's mostly Eric being a douche, Peter being a manly-man who is insecure about his obvious gayness, and a few short but lovely moments of Fourtris. But oh, my god, only three POVs? Wow.**

* * *

There was something strange about it, but Caleb Prior quite liked being thrown against a wall.

Peter kissed him, hard, and he returned it, the attraction heating up the room and making Caleb sweat. He took off his blue tee-shirt and threw it on the bathroom floor. They were in the handicap stall. Caleb felt slightly guilty for that; he knew there were kids in wheelchairs at their school, and he knew big stalls were supposed to be for their use. But he also knew that if he said that aloud, Peter would roll his eyes and probably not pleasure him at all.

"They'll see us," he had complained, wanting something that he knew would feel so right but be so wrong.

Peter had simply pointed to the opened window above them.

Their tongues wrestled each other, Peter trailing his hands down Caleb's body. He had been insecure about it before, but now he felt as confident as ever.

Caleb's hands slid down to peel Peter's shirt off, and he was amazed by what he saw - how could they have kicked him off of the water polo team for drug use when he looked like that? He was practically a Greek god.

They were in what Caleb would deem the middle of their makeout session when Peter abruptly pulled away.

Caleb pulled his lips away from Peter's lower lip. "What is it?" he asked.

Peter coughed again, retiring to the wall opposite him.

He licked his dry lips, closing his eyes. Caleb tried not to stare at his chest as he breathed in and out.

He hated the pain he saw in Peter's eyes.

"Was I bad?"

Peter looked him in the eyes, and they held green gazes. Peter shook his head with disbelief, or to say 'no'. Caleb couldn't tell which.

"Then what is it?"

Peter looked like he had something to say but couldn't speak at all.

"Is there something you need to tell me? Is there something I need to know?"

Peter just shook his head. He walked over to where his shirt lay on the floor and pulled it over his head. He handed Caleb's shirt to him.

"Just text me," Peter said, avoiding Caleb's eyes, and left.

Caleb felt hollow inside, sick. He couldn't avoid feeling like Peter had lied to him, like something was wrong with him or something was his fault. The taste of Peter's lips turned sour in his mouth. Something was troubling him. But what was it?

* * *

Tris stared at herself in the mirror.

She hadn't done that in awhile. Her parents had taught her when she was young that she shouldn't be vain, because vanity was another form of selflessness, so there were never very many mirrors in the Prior household.

The hall pass dangling from her wrist, she took Christina's borrowed eyeliner pencil and traced under her eye. All of her other makeup was already applied, from foundation to eyeshadow to lip gloss.

She found it difficult to keep the pencil steady. She traced over her eyelid, too, and joined the two curves to form a wing, a technique Christina had taught her.

She was surprised at the effect of the eyeliner. It made her blue eyes stand out amongst the rest of her. She ran her hairbrush through her hair and gazed nervously at her watch. She had figured that her history teacher wouldn't mind her being gone for a few minutes, but she had been gone for more than ten.

She thought of Tobias. He was so hard to read sometimes. Would he appreciate her beauty? Or would he criticize it, maybe give her one of his signature furtive looks?

And was it selfish of her to wonder?

* * *

Reader, he kissed her.

Tobias' lips touched hers. He took her face in his hands and they pressed close to each other, so tight there was barely any air.

And Tris drowned in that lack of air, because that lack of air meant a field of endless love. They embraced, and played with each other's tongues, and Tris felt free.

The taste of her lips was still in his mouth when he crossed the busy intersection seven blocks from his house. They had already gone their separate ways, and he felt empty without her there. But just the thought of her kept him company.

He was startled by the crackle of thunder. He took his hands out of his pockets and pulled up his hood.

The rain came quickly, the lightning flashing in the sky after every boom. Tobias walked faster. Marcus would be asleep by now, which was both good and unfortunate. He wanted to spite Marcus, but he also feared him.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he heard shoes squeaking in the rain. A figure crossed his path about twenty yards ahead, but Tobias couldn't make it out since it was so dark. He just continued walking, trying not to get his heart racing, taking careful steps.

Footsteps came from his left then, quicker now. But Tobias didn't stop, not when they grew in speed and came from all directions, it seemed.

He did stop, however, when someone's hand came down on his stomach, knocking the wind out of him, causing him to double over.

The punches came rapidly, a whole slew of them, over and over again. Black crowded Tobias' vision, but he looked up long enough to see who his attacker was.

A pair of green eyes, filled with pain.

Peter.

Tobias gasped, and Peter lost his grasp. Tobias stood up then, and once he was on his feet, he shoved Peter against a nearby wall.

Tobias didn't have to speak any words to get his point across. With every breath, he was filled more and more with the urge to murder Peter.

He punched him across the face.

"I'm sorry," Peter groaned, blood coming from his nose. "I'm so sorry."

Tobias grabbed Peter by his shirt collar and threw him on the floor. He felt like an animal. He hadn't even spoken a word to Peter and he was already ready to kill him.

"Eric," Peter said.

Tobias let go, and Peter stumbled.

"You're a coward," Tobias said through gritted teeth. His fists were still raised. "You can't accept yourself. You're scared of him. You can't just deal with the consequences, and make things better for yourself, can you?"

"I can't."

Lightning flashed again. Tobias saw for a split-second Peter's face. The blood from his nose mixed with the water dripping down his face.

"You love him."

Peter looked like he was about to cry, and maybe he was crying, Tobias couldn't tell. But he nodded.

Tobias lowered his fists. He felt like his father.

His heart heavy, he said, "Fine. You get off this time. But I'm not going to stop Eric from doing anything to you."

Peter nodded.

"...and if you ever do anything remotely like this to Tris, you will die. You will lie here, covered in your own blood, and you will die. Understand?"

Peter nodded again. Understood.

* * *

**A/N: Yep. I hope you liked it. Things are heating up. Maybe the Fourtris wedding in a few chapters? No, just kidding. That's illegal. **

**QOTC: Will U ship FourTris 4evar?**


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